Some Random Shit

When I was little, like around 3 or 4, people would frequently tell my mother (in my presence) that I would be a real heartbreaker someday.

I hated it when people said that. I didn't want to break anyone's heart. That would be MEAN. My wee self resented the implication that I would ever do such a thing.

So when I grew up, I grew to be the guy who doesn't break hearts, but also doesn't get to have relationships.

It's funny how shit works out.

* * *

Notes taken about a mall last week:

I wondered a bit if the high-end places like the Grove or the Americana [upscale, open-air malls] hurt the old indoor malls like the Galleria. Answer: no. It's just got older, become oddly duller. The clientele is at first glance poorer or at least lower-class and fringey. It's not that these people wouldn't be seen at the Grove or what have you; it's just they're more at home here.

Maybe my perspective has been skewed by my travels amongst the big livers (and/or wannabes), or maybe I'm just older and more jaded.

The old-school malls still have stores you don't see anywhere else, stores that can only survive in the rarified ecosystem of enclosed economics. Here franchise outlets like Mrs Fields and Sbarros, Sanrio Surprise and Swatch (Swatch! Seriously?!? There are that many people that nostalgic or ironic about the 80's?) survive if not thrive.

Amongst this seething bustle of melting-pot humanity, each willing to be parted with their money, it's hard to believe there's a recession on.

It's also hard to believe SHE's with HIM, I'm no worse a catch.

People don't change as much as we like to think. At least not in my lifespan. The trappings change but underneath we're the same now as we were in 1985. This mall could be swapped for the one I remember from my youth, in Canada, and you'd be hard-pressed to see the difference.

Also I can't find the arcade. I think maybe the Galleria doesn't have one.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

* * *

Sometimes I wonder if I'm really as smart as I think I am. Given that I've been living in the outside world for five years and haven't parlayed my various talents into fame and fortune (or even an acceptably independent lifestyle), I don't think such doubts are entirely unreasonable.

Then I see a movie like Shutter Island, billed as a twisty-turny suspenseful thriller -- that I figured out the ending to, around about the halfway mark. I mean really; I missed a few details, but otherwise was pretty dead-on. Consequently I spent the whole second hour of the movie in a state of boredom.

Also, just a note on this film in particular: The camerawork and/or film editing annoyed the living SHIT out of me. I get they were trying to be arty or whatever, and in some cases I could totally tell what they were trying to do specifically for that scene. But it didn't work. It was actively distracting; the way camera angles changed (often unnaturally and unnecessarily) threw me out of the movie to such a degree I actually considered walking out.

Anyway... the friend I went with, who I consider a fairly bright person, was totally into the film, totally didn't see any of it coming, and was pretty much blown away by it. Which, you know, I'm happy for her.

But it sort of answers my question. At the very least, if I'm not smarter, my mind at least works the right way for movies and shit.

Incidentally the whole business of wondering about your own intelligence? It's documented fact that people who really are smart and capable tend to underestimate their abilities, while people who are just dumb as bricks think they're the living shit.

I find this information slightly disturbing. So does that mean I'm dumb for thinking I'm smart? You can see how easy it could be, to get into a vicious circle on that one. I choose not to dwell on it. I could be doing better things. Like figuring out ways to parlay my various skills and talents into fame and fortune, goddamn it!